Number One Fan
by Creatively Insane
Summary: When recent Hogwarts graduate Natalie MacDonald follows her favorite Quidditch team - or, more specifically, her favorite player on that team - to Ireland for a match, she never expects the excitement, romance, and general chaos that she brings with her.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hello and welcome! I make no guarantees about my updating schedule, content quality, sense of humor, or devotion to canon. I hope you can forgive me my failings and just enjoy the story. Thanks for reading.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of this. I'm not making any money off of any of this. Please don't sue me.

She went to every game.

She loved to stare at him longingly as he played. She loved the way he blocked Quaffles. The way he always just laughed when the other team's Chasers yelled angrily at him. They way his navy blue Quidditch robes looked on him. Most of all, she loved the fact that he didn't know.

Didn't know she watched him every time he played, followed him around Britain and Ireland to watch him. Didn't know how much she loved him. Didn't know anything.

She supposed that made her a stalker.

Barely out of Hogwarts, and already developing extraordinarily creepy tendencies and obsessions with men she barely knew and who were much older than her. In fact, so much older than her that it _wasn't even legal for them to date_. She supposed, at seventeen, most men who were older than her couldn't legally date her. Trouble was, she didn't particularly care for any of the ones that could. In fact, she didn't care for most of the ones that couldn't.

Just one.

The one she was currently stalking.

She supposed if any normal girl had found herself in this situation, she would have smacked herself in the face, given up on him, and gone home. Really, any normal girl wouldn't have followed a man seven years older than her to Kenmare, Ireland, (just to watch him play Quidditch for a couple hours) in the first place.

But Natalie MacDonald wasn't normal, so she stood in the stadium in Kenmare, sopping wet from the rain that was currently sheeting down, and watched as Oliver Wood attempted to save the day.

Puddlemere United had scored exactly 150 points. The Kenmare Kestrels had scored zero. But if they got even one goal, and then they caught the Snitch, they would win, and all of Oliver's fantastic Keeping would have been a waste. So now, as the Kestrels best Chaser, fairly recent addition Demelza Robbins, pelted her way up the field for a penalty shot, Oliver had to stop the goal, or risk losing the game.

The crowd cheered excitedly. One violently green portion of the crowd screamed Demelza's name in a sort of ritualistic chant. The rest of the Kestrel fans cheered for their team, while the Puddlemere fans who had bothered to show up roared for theirs. Only Natalie was yelling for Wood himself, because only Natalie believed a Keeper had any real importance to the game. Most of the wizarding community seemed to think they were sort of background people, people you didn't need to bother caring about. They knew the best Chasers, and almost all the Seekers, and the Beaters if they were particularly violent, but Natalie could not think of a single famous Keeper. They were like lawn ornaments. Sometimes endearing, and they could have nostalgic value occasionally, but usually you either didn't particularly care for them, or you forgot they existed.

Not Natalie.

"Go, Oliver!" She screamed as loudly as possible, hoping to be encouraging. If he could even hear her through the rain and the enthusiastic cheering of the Kestrels most adamant fans.

Several people turned to look at her as she screamed. Obviously, her intensity startled them. But it was like her mother always said. 'If you love something enough to be that intense, then there's not shame in it.' Her mother was not a woman who was afraid of intensity. She would have loved this.

As Demelza swooped towards Oliver, Natalie could hear the commentators shouting into their microphones. "Looks like a win for the Kestrels, as Robbins is almost sure to get this shot, and everyone knows their Seeker, Terence Higgs, is absolutely superb. Too bad for Puddlemere, though, they've been doing quite well recently."

Of course they have, thought Natalie. They've got Oliver. He prevents anyone else from ever scoring. He's fantastic.

But even she wasn't sure how he thought he was going to block this.

Suddenly, everything seemed to slow down. It was as if Natalie's brain was processing everything much faster, so as not to miss the important things. She saw, clearly, each drop of rain. Through the rain, she saw the emerald green Chasers' gloves Demelza wore. She saw the shiny red Quaffle in those gloves. She saw it leave them, gently, and begin soaring through the air towards Oliver, almost lazily. And she saw Oliver's face, tensed in preparation.

As Oliver started to move (very slowly) words she had read years previously on a rainy day like this in the Hogwarts Library flashed back to her. The place, the time, they slipped away, and left her a girl of barely eleven, checking out a book on quidditch from the library. Madam Pince had glared at her irritably as she did so, muttering something about 'sports more important to them than books.'

In fact, Natalie had never been much for sports before that. Her mother, Mary, did not like them much, and her father was a Muggle, and therefore only watched Muggle sports. These could not hold her interest. But she had started Hogwarts, and she had seen _him_,sitting there, more suggestive than ought to be allowed in educational establishments. When the Sorting Hat had placed her in Gryffindor, she had not really known what that meant, but saw him cheering for her, and decided she agreed with the placement.

As soon as she had learned he played a sport, she decided she had to go and learn as much about that sport as possible. She had gone to the library and asked Madam Pince for a book about Quattatch. As soon as Madam Pince sussed out what it was she wanted, she had handed her 'Quidditch Through the Ages' disapprovingly and sent her on her way. But Natalie had curled into a ball in the library chairs, and read the book straight through right there.

The words on page 52 were still as fresh in her mind as the page number itself, as the smell of the library, the giggles from the Ravenclaw girls studying near her. They had come right between the Dopplebeater Defense and the Hawkshead Attacking Formation (which, coincidentally, had been invented by a former member of their current opposing team.)

It had read:

**Double Eight Loop**

A Keeper defense, usually employed against penalty takers, whereby the Keeper swerves around all three goal hoops at high speed to block the Quaffle.

It was very dangerous, very difficult, and did not have a guaranteed rate of success. Oliver would know it was a stupid move. He had to.

But her heart sank as she remembered how he had had his team out on the Quidditch Pitch at all hours of the day and night, practicing Sloth Grip Rolls and Wollongong Shimmies until their arms fell off or they fell off their brooms.

It sank further as she saw Oliver begin the first of many high-speed zipping figure-eight movements. Instead of the raucous cheering she had been enjoying before, Natalie fell deathly silent. The chap next to her glanced at her but said nothing, still watching excitedly as Demelza's perfectly pitched Quaffle zoomed for the goal posts –

And straight into Oliver's broomtail, which it bounced right off, and began to fall harmlessly to the ground. A cheer went up among the Puddlemere fans. Oliver did a few more victory figure eights…right into a Bludger. Natalie heard the sound of a thunk as the Bludger connected with his skull, and she was fairly certain she screamed. If she did, however, it was drowned in the screams of rage from the Kestrel fans and the screams of joy from the Puddlemere fans as Puddlemere's Seeker, Summerby, snagged the Snitch a fraction of a second before the Higgs could get his hands on it, swooping down from above and knocking it away. It was a spectacular Snitch capture, made by her very own favorite team. Natalie didn't notice.

Oliver. Hit in the head with a Bludger. Her Oliver.

_Her _Oliver? How very…stalkerish…of her.

Her Oliver injured. Maybe dead. Maybe never going to play Quidditch again. She stared in shock at the place where he had landed, though he had long since been carted off by the on-call Healers. She only looked away when a tap on the shoulder broke her attention. She turned round to see a figure in brilliant green, and was all prepared to be disdainful and defensive until she realized it was, in fact, Seamus Finnigan.

"Seamus!" she cried, hugging him. "How are you?"

He grinned back. "Would've been better if your Summerby hadn't got his hands on the Snitch. Hey, I saw you looking pretty concerned when your Keeper got hit, so I thought I'd tell you I heard them say he'll be fine. He was mumbling something about having had worse."

She sighed in relief. "Okay. Okay. Good."

"You really like this team, huh?" he asked as he fell into step beside her and they strolled through the still noisy crowd to exit the stadium.

She smiled. "Since the dawn of time, it seems. You remember I used to have a poster of them up in my room in Hogwarts?"

He laughed. "Yes. Since like your second year. God, that seems forever ago."

"Not forever," she said, smiling. "Just six years."

"That's about forever, yeah," he said.

The two of them reached the patch of shoulder and empty field where the audience members brooms, cars, bikes, portkeys, and apparition spaces had been left. Seamus pulled a shiny key out of his pocket and pressed a button. One of the flashier and more luxurious looking cars beeped in response.

"You own a car?" she asked.

"Sure, and I do," he said. "No point in being the most famous presenter on the Wizarding Wireless Network if I don't get some good cash out of it." He flashed her a grin. "Is there?"

She just smiled and slid into the passenger seat, grateful for the implied offer of a ride. He slipped into the driver's seat next to her and glanced towards her. "Where to?"

"I'm staying at Tara Bed and Breakfast, near the bay," she told him.

"Mind if I stop by my hotel first? I need to tell some people to cancel some things, and then you and I are having dinner."

She laughed cheerfully. "Yes, sir. Dinner with you. Where?"

"Hotel first," he instructed. "Then we stop by your place so you can change. Then you find out where dinner is."

She sighed. She knew Seamus in these moods. After all, they had been friends since she was thirteen. He'd never budge. "Alright. Where are you staying?"

But he never had to answer that question, as his hotel came into view at that moment. It was a gigantic thing, but it was a thing of beauty. She let out a little whoof of air as she saw it. Seamus cracked up. "Yeah, I'm staying here. Pretty rich, huh? The whole Puddlemere team is staying here, too."

She looked round at him sharply. "Really?"

"Yeah. I thought you'd like that. Maybe we can skulk about a bit and see if we can get one alone. They travel in packs, see, with other teammates and security at all times. After their public trouncing of the local heroes, I imagine they'll double security measures." He smirked.

"Yeah…I suppose so," she said.

"Amortentia Warbeck is staying here, too."

"Celestina's daughter?"

"Yep. Actually, I invited her. We've got a kind of close relationship, as I'm head presenter and she's one of our stars. Thought she might like a good game of Quidditch. Her, you can definitely meet, if you'd be interested."

"That'd be really neat. Sometime."

He smiled. "Right. Cancel dinner date. Change. Get you to your place. Change. Dinner."

"If you already made dinner plans-" she began, but was cut off.

"I have dinner plans every night. Since I invited Amortentia, I've been having dinner with her, but I'm sure she won't mind if I go off on my own for one night. I'll tell her to invite one of the Puddlemere boys. Maybe that Seeker who made the spectacular catch right at the end. She'll like that bit." He glanced at her and her casual attire. "Er, no, I think you'd better not come inside."

She frowned at that, and all during his removal of his bright green robes. Underneath that he wore an ensemble that was trying so hard to be elegantly casual she was sure it had cost thousands of galleons. He scurried into the huge building with its lights and its rich people. After a little while he returned, smiling at her. His clothes seemed to have gone less casual by exactly one degree. He slid back into his seat.

"Okay. Amortentia actually seemed quite intrigued by my description of the game. Maybe she'll ask one of those Puddleys after all," he said as he careered out of the parking lot.

She laughed. Her mind kept laughing the whole time, as he drove her home, helped her pick her clothes, offered to help change her clothes, waited patiently until she had done it herself, and then loaded her back into the car.

"Now will you tell me where we are?" she asked, looking around when they stopped.

"Coachman Restaurant at Falls Hotel."

"I've heard that name. That is a fancy, expensive, name. Oh, dear. Nononono. Why do you insist on showing off how rich you are?"

He chuckled. "Because I can. Now come on, we have reservations we don't want to miss."

And he towed her reluctant self inside the building.

End of Chapter One. Hope you enjoyed it, see you next time!


	2. Chapter 2

After dinner, which had been delicious and as expensive as she'd been afraid it would be, and which Seamus had insisted on paying for, he drove her back to his hotel.

"Come on!" he wheedled, tugging on her arm like a little kid. "Just come up for a second, meet Amortentia, leave again! It's only evening, what's the problem?"

The problem was that Natalie wasn't entirely sure that she could stop herself from throwing herself to the ground worshipfully if she happened to see Oliver, but she was certainly not telling Seamus that. "It's not that early, Seamus," she argued. "And besides, how do I know this isn't just a ploy to get me into bed?" she joked.

Seamus looked at her, batting long eyelashes and making puppy dog eyes at her. "It might _not _be."

She laughed, and he smiled at her enthusiastically. "Come on come on come on, pleeeaaase? Just come in for a minute, how about that?"

She groaned, and hauled herself out of the car reluctantly. "Alright, alright, but only because I know you'll never shut up about it if I don't come."

He grinned. "Right! Smart lass. Let's go!"

He dragged her away from the car and towards the building, waving his car keys over his shoulder in the general direction of his car and pressing the button that locked the doors. Natalie sighed. She supposed the likelihood of their running into Oliver was small. It was a big hotel, after all. And even if they _did_ run into him, she was a big girl. She could resist the temptation to scream like a little girl and beg permission to carry his children. Right. It would be fine. Just fine.

Seamus pulled her into the lobby and abruptly dropped her hand, straightened her carefully casual clothes, and hooked her arm with his. He was guiding her through the lobby when they heard a quiet, tinkly, laugh from one of the lobby's couches, and turned to look at its owner. There was a man sitting with his back to them, short brown hair slightly tousled, arms stretched out to either side of him on the back of his couch. Sitting more or less across from him in an elegant red cushioned chair was the most beautiful woman Natalie had ever seen in her life. Well, she had seen prettier Veela, but she was definitely the next best thing. She had long blonde hair down her back, sprawling and curling elegantly, but with just a hint of sexuality. She was skinny, but tall, and squeezed into a dress that screamed sex and money all in the same breath. She was smiling seductively at her companion, full lips curved, bright and deep blue eyes crinkled at the corners and narrowed ever so slightly, perfect little upturned nose, rosy cheeks, almost elfin ears poking out of her hair. She had a pale, slender neck, and her hand was held to it, drawing attention to the whopping big diamond she was wearing as a pendant. In those pointy little ears were pearls, a line to each ear, getting progressively smaller until there was a tiny pearl about the size of a grain of sand that Natalie could barely see. Seamus smiled in her direction and started walking towards her, and Natalie realized with a plummeting stomach that this had to be Amortentia Warbeck, only daughter of singing sensation Celestina Warbeck, and that she had daily access to not only Natalie's close friend, but also the object of Natalie's scary, stalkerish, obsession. Natalie felt woefully inadequate. She scurried after Seamus anyway.

The man with whom Amortentia had been talking looked annoyed as Seamus walked up, charming, suave, and obviously rich, and kissed Amortentia on the cheek. He was obviously terrified that Seamus was trying to take his toy away, and was just waiting to report him to the teacher. "Amortentia, my love," he said, and at this point Natalie knew Seamus was messing with the guy. "How are you doing this evening? Is this gentleman bothering you?"

Amortentia quirked a smile, and Natalie realized with some jealousy that Amortentia knew Seamus was playing as well. Not everyone knew Seamus like Natalie. Natalie suspected only his mother and his best friend, Dean Thomas, were as well acquainted with Seamus' quirks as Natalie. But here was this woman, this absolutely gorgeous woman, seeing through all of Seamus' pretenses and acting like he was hers! He was not hers, he was Natalie's.

Natalie mentally slapped herself. She had enough trouble as it was, being obsessed with Oliver. She had better not start in on Seamus, of all people.

"Oh, no, my dear Seamus," Amortentia was saying. "We were just having a friendly chat. Seamus, this is William Summerby, the Seeker for Puddlemere United. He's the one who made that absolutely spectacular catch you were telling me about." She smiled at Summerby. "William, this is Seamus Finnegan, presenter for Wizarding Wireless Network. We work together, of course."

"Call me Will," said Will, holding out a hand to Seamus.

"Seamus, of course. Ah, this here," he said, gesturing to Natalie, who felt compelled by his gesture to step forward somewhat. "is my good friend Natalie MacDonald. Now, as Natalie's only just graduated, she doesn't have nearly such an exciting career as either of you-" _or me, _was innately implied. "-but she's quite brilliant and a great friend. Natalie, this is Amortentia Warbeck, Celestina's daughter, and William Summerby, Seeker for your favorite team."

Will, who had been regarding Natalie with disinterest and disdain, perked up at that. "Ah, so you're not a Kestrels fan, then?"

She smiled at him. "Not at all. Came all the way over here from England just to watch the game." He smiled at that, and she reminded herself to play it cool. "I saw…" Your Keeper? No, a fan would know his name. Oliver? Too personal. "Ah…Wood took a Bludger to the head after that last save. Is he doing alright?" Don't look like you're really desperate to know, don't look like you're really desperate to know, don't-

"Oh, yeah," said Will, sliding over on his couch and gesturing for her to take a seat. "Oliver's doing fine. Keeps asking for whiskey and women, so we're guessing he's doing okay."

Seamus and Amortentia laughed, and Natalie noticed Will was less polite and defensive then before. This relieved her, as she wasn't entirely sure how to handle moody Quidditch players. _Maybe you shouldn't be chasing after Oliver like this, then, _a little voice said. _You don't really know him, he could be moody and difficult ALL THE TIME._

_Then I'll learn how to handle him, _she told the voice. _Shut up._

She and Seamus sat there with Amortentia and Will for a while after that, talking as casually as any three rich people and the little fangirl one of them brought along could talk. Will seemed pleased with her enthusiasm for and knowledge of the Puddlemere United team, and asked her, to her great joy, if she'd like to meet them.

"Oh, yeah, I'd love to!" she positively bubbled when he asked.

He grinned. "Well, they're not all in at the moment. Oliver's recuperating in bed and I think Kenneth is on a date, but the rest of them are just lazing around. We could go up to the room and you could say hi. Want to?"

"Definitely!"

Will quirked a smile at Seamus and said "You'll have to bring your chaperone, of course."

Seamus smiled back, and the two of them got up. Will offered a hand to Amortentia, and she took it, rising to her feet. She glanced at Natalie.

"I've met them, of course, but I'd love to see them again. Shall we?"

Natalie knew, as there had been no reason for her say that, that it was probably intended as a jab against Natalie's inferiority and obvious fangirl obsession, but Natalie didn't mind. She was excited to meet the team, even if she couldn't meet Oliver. Will lead them to the lifts and pressed the button for the top floor. The doors slid shut and they ascended quickly, rushing up the building. Amortentia stood, looking rather as though she believed herself too good for lifts, or perhaps as if she thought they should go faster just for her. But then the doors slid open, and Natalie ignored her. Will took her arm and lead her down the hall, obviously pleased to have someone in the town actually pleased to be around him, instead of sending him the dirty looks she suspected they were sending. He brought their little group to one of the doors, knocked, and waited.

"Who is it?" called a female voice.

"Ask for the password!" Will demanded, and Natalie giggled. He glanced at her and smiled, then arranged his features into a frown. "Don't laugh. This is a very serious business." He pronounced it like busyness. "Our manager will 'strap us all to our brooms and send us smashing through a bloody huge glass window into a pond full of alligators and flesh-eating viruses if we don't stop fooling around and tighten up security around this place.'" He looked at her seriously. "I don't like ponds."

The door opened then, and Rylie Calls, Chaser, was looking at them, exasperated. "Are you gonna muck around out there or are you gonna come in and - oh, hi there." She was looking at Natalie as she said this, and then looked back at Will. "Not your usual type."

"Afraid not. She's a fan."

Rylie brightened considerably. "Ooh!" she said, ushering them inside and leaving the door open for Seamus and Amortentia, whom she obviously recognised. "It's been a while since we've had one of those. Hey guys!" she said, leading Natalie into a living room, of sorts, in which sat three people, all of whom Natalie recognised. "We got us a real live fan!"

They grinned at her from their respective seats. Melinda Bradley, another Chaser, bounded out of her chair and wrapped her arms around Natalie. "Oh, I am so relieved I could just hug you!"

"You _are_ hugging her," pointed out Cornelius Azure, the third Chaser, from his seat on the floor. He seemed to be playing some sort of video game against the final team member currently occupying that room, one of the Beaters, Carpenter Derek. 'My parents swear they meant to name me Derek Carpenter,' she remembered him telling a magazine once. 'They say things just got confused. I think they secretly just wanted my name to be the right way round for all those places where they flip it in their database, or make you write just your last name.' Carpenter was focused on his game and only waved at her vaguely. She got the impression he was losing. Rylie and Melinda hurried her over to a chair and sat next to her. They asked her if she wanted anything several times, then pleaded with her to tell them why she liked their team. "Pleeeaaase," begged Melinda. "I just want to feel loved!" she fake sobbed.

She stayed there a long while, talking with the team. Eventually Cornelius and Carpenter came out of their video game and joined the conversation, and eventually Amortentia demanded politely that she be taken home. Will offered to accompany her, but Seamus said no, he was going to bed anyway, he might as well do it, and so Seamus left and left her alone in a room full of strangers. Of course, they didn't feel like strangers, since they were very enthusiastic about her and she already knew everything about them, but still. Eventually Kenneth Towler, the other Beater, stumbled into the room, drunk, and collapsed onto the floor by the couch, on top of their feet. The other members of the team just picked up their feet and used him as a footrest, calmly continuing the conversation and saying with their actions 'nothing to see here, happens all the time, don't worry about it at all, what were you saying about how wonderful I am?'

She stayed up with the team until it was very late, and they talked and talked, first about the team, and then the players, and then the players' families, the players' friends, and, eventually, the players' love lives. Secretly, Natalie was really the most interested in this part, because it was the one they didn't talk about with the magazines she read.

"Ohhh, wow," said Melinda, who had been sipping champagne for quite a while and was feeling the effects. "I haven't had a…mmph, Rylie, wake up…a boyfriend in about…" she began to count on her fingers. "About two years?"

"Two _years_?" asked Will, as if he couldn't imagine such a thing.

"Mm-hmm. And you shut up. I've been too busy, you see," she whispered to Natalie, actually quite loud. "It's the team. I am always so very, very, busy taking care of all of them that I don't have any time…" she trailed off, then seemed to remember what she'd been talking about. "ANY time for myself. For my…my…for my me. My lady parts."

Natalie giggled. Cornelius waved a tired hand at the air. "Ah, love," he said. "That mysterious…somethin'…that evades us all." He blew out a breath. "I can't remember exactly how that goes. Too tired."

"It is pretty late," said Will. "Rylie's asleep already, look."

"So is Carpenter," said Cornelius, waving a hand vaguely towards the sleeping lump on the other couch. "And me…I'm going fast."

"Okay," said Will, getting up and walking around the couch to where Cornelius was half draped over the back. "I'm taking you to bed." He said, slinging Cornelius over his shoulder in a fireman's lift and walking towards one of the bedrooms.

"Why, Will," said Cornelius. "You should at least buy me dinner first."

And then they were through the door, and it was very quiet, and Natalie was very warm underneath Rylie and Melinda, who had fallen asleep on her, and she was blissfully happy after the evening she'd had. So, sighing and closing her eyes –_just for a second, I swear_ – she fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Oliver Wood had not had a good night. His head ached, his brain seemed to be jiggling around inside his skull, his bed was uncomfortable for some reason – he found out later it was full of crumbs, and resolved to kill the first person he saw eating toast – and he'd been kept up later than he would have liked by the giggling and talking coming from the main room. He cursed his teammates silently a thousand times, even Carpenter, who was relatively quiet, and the strange girl he could hear talking – _probably one of Will's girls, going to kill her too, especially if she's eating toast _– a thousand times more. Eventually, however, he did sleep, and in the morning got up resolutely, despite the aforementioned brain jiggling.

He groaned as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a casual shirt. Every movement jarred his poor jiggling brain. He silently cursed whichever Beater had sent that Bludger careening into his tender squishy skull. He knew, pulling on his socks and sneakers, that in as fine and upstanding an establishment as this, he should probably be wearing dressier clothes, but his head was killing him and he didn't like dress clothes. Besides, it wasn't like anyone was gonna see him, he wouldn't even leave the room.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the main room, where it was obvious they'd had something of a party the night before. There were a couple of empty pizza boxes and champagne bottles, Kenneth was passed out next to the couch, Carpenter and Rylie were passed out on the couches, and Melinda was tiptoeing around, cleaning up.

"Hi," he whispered.

She jumped, startled, and turned to him. "Hi, Oliver," she whispered back. "How's your head?"

"Oh, fantastic. It feels like sunshine and daisies," he hissed sarcastically.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Where are the others?" he asked quietly, walking over to her through the scattered debris.

"In bed, I think. Will put Cornelius in bed, and then I think he fell asleep himself."

"What about that girl?" he asked, confused.

"Natalie? Oh, she went back to her hotel, I think."

He frowned. "Wait. Wasn't she one of Will's?"

Melinda laughed. "No, no. She's a fan. She dropped by to meet us and we practically kidnapped the poor girl. We're all desperate for some lovin'. She fell asleep here, I think, but she was gone in the morning."

"Isn't it morning now?" he asked.

She stifled a giggle. "No. It's almost three in the afternoon. You've all slept in very late. I mean, I understand you needing sleep, but I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who had much to drink. I guess the rest of them are just dead tired."

One of the bedroom doors banged open suddenly, and Melinda jumped and whirled around. Cornelius was standing there, hair wild, eyes unable to focus, leaning on the doorframe for support. "I'm awake!" he said rather loudly.

"Shhhhhh!" hissed Melinda. "They're still asleep."

Cornelius glanced sleepily at the three figures on the couch and said "Oh." Then he looked up and said "Hi, Oliver." Then he fell down.

Melinda walked over to him, looking exasperated, while Cornelius looked around as if wondering how he came to be on the floor. She picked him up as best she could and set him on his feet. He stumbled out into the living room and hugged Oliver around the waist, snuggling against him.

"'m tired," he said. "Wanna sleep."

Oliver smiled a little and patted Cornelius on the head. "Okay. Come on. Wake up."

"No," said Cornelius, holding tighter to Oliver.

"Look, Cornelius!" said Melinda, as enthusiastically as she could whisper. "Pretty boys!"

"What?" said Cornelius, head snapping round, eyes wide, and Melinda and Oliver couldn't help laughing at him. The sound of their laughter must have roused Rylie, because she rolled off her couch onto Kenneth, who woke up swearing loudly, which woke Carpenter, who yelled at them all to 'just shut up, will ya?' which must have woken Will, because a second later his head poked out through his bedroom door.

"Wus goin' on?" he asked blearily, rubbing sleep from his eyes and trying to flatten his sleep hair.

"Nothing, Will," said Melinda. "It's okay."

"Can I go back to sleep, then?" he asked.

"'Fraid not," said Oliver. "It's already past three."

"Damn," said Will. "Okay, team, one last exciting day in the land of people who hate us, then tomorrow we're going home."

"To the land of people who don't particulalry care about us," said Rylie from her position on the floor, which was still on top of Kenneth. He growled at her and lifted her off, standing up and rubbing his head.

"God," he said. "My head is killing me."

"Oh, right, YOUR head is killing you," said Oliver. "Whereas mine is just bothering me ever so slightly. My brains are made of jelly."

"Sorry, mate," said Kenneth. "But I think this is the mother of all hangovers."

"Alright, alright," said Will, shambling into the room. "We should all get up, get out there, and enjoy our last day, right?"

"What if I don't wanna enjoy my day?" mumbled Kenneth. "Just cause you're Captain doesn't mean you get to make me enjoy myself."

Will pointed a commanding finger at Kenneth. "You're going to enjoy your day, because I say so, whether you like it or not. If need be, I will follow you everywhere you go and MAKE you enjoy it."

"You know, maybe I should stay here and…guard the hotel room," suggested Oliver.

"Alright," said Will, glancing at him.

"Hey!" yelled Kenneth. "Why does he get to stay here?"

"It's not _his _fault he was hit in the head with a Bludger," said Will. "You're the one who chose to get pissed."

Kenneth grumbled, but eventually Will managed to get them all ready and presentable, bundle them out the door, and drag them off to enjoy themselves. Oliver groaned with relief as he shut the door. He collapsed onto the couch in the blissful quiet that accompanies the absence of raucous teammates. He shut his eyes and tried not to focus on the pounding in his skull. After a minute or so, he slipped into sleep.

Natalie prayed, trotting down the hallway of the top floor of what was probably the most expensive hotel in town, that they were still in. She had left her bag in their room, though she didn't know where. Probably on the couch. She tiptoed up to the door, feeling sheepish, and knocked tentatively. There was no response.

"Er…" she called out, as quietly as possible. "It's Natalie. I think I left my bag, could I come in?"

There was no response. _Maybe they're out_, she said to herself. _But I really need that bag. _She glanced to the right, and the left. _Maybe they left the door unlocked…I'll just check, just for my bag._ She tried the handle. It clicked, and the door swung open easily. She glanced to either side again, then tiptoed into the room and shut the door behind her. She walked into the main room and froze in shock.

Oliver Wood was sitting on the couch, brown hair tousled, body sprawling. She was about to apologize profusely and back out of the room, bag be damned, when she noticed his eyes were closed, and he was breathing deep, even breaths. Asleep. She sighed in relief and was going to tiptoe away when she paused. _Well…he is asleep. I could probably just get my bag, really really quietly, and then just…run away. He'd never wake up. Wow, he looks really pretty asleep. Of course, he always looks pretty, but he looks sort of …vulnerable. It's so cute. Oh, right, my bag. Oh, my god, look at those are nice arms to have. Those are …very attractive arms. Shut up. Find your bag. Run. _She tiptoed closer to him, not because she wanted to, but because he was sitting more or less where her bag probably was. She looked at the couch to either side of him, didn't see it, and, very, very, carefully, edged closer. She lifted up the pillows to either side of him, looked in the cracks around the cushions. No bag. She tried the floor around the couch, under the couch. Nothing. She glanced up at him from the floor. It must be behind him. She swore silently and stood up to leave. She knew she would wake him, digging around the cushion right behind his back. But then she saw it. The edge of her bag. Sticking out from behind him. Maybe, just maybe, she could simply pull it out and run away, and he would be none the wiser. And she would have her bag. She really needed her bag. She took a deep breath and inched nearer to him, reaching shaking fingers for the edge of her bag. She leaned over to get it, and her hair fell over her shoulder, hiding him from view. _Good, _she thought. _If I can't see him, I'll be less distracted. _Her fingers clasped the corner of her bag, and she pulled gently. Then harder. Eventually, the bag came loose, and slid free into her triumphant hands. She stood up, smiling, and noticed Oliver looking at her. She screamed in shock briefly and dropped her bag. He grinned.

"Natalie, I presume," he said. She stared at him. "Hi. I'm Oliver Wood."


	4. Chapter 4

He was looking at her like he expected something. What was it? Not a kiss. No, she definitely wasn't supposed to kiss him. Nor should she bow, worship his feet, or anything else that would mark her as a stalker. So what was it he wanted? Oh! Right. A response. He wanted a response.

What had he said?

"Natalie, I presume," he had said. And something else. "Hi, I'm Oliver Wood." That was it. He was Oliver Wood.

"I know. I mean, hi. I mean, how do you know my name?"

"Melinda mentioned you came over. I figured you were the only person who'd be poking around our room, nicking bags. That's yours, then, is it?"

"Um. Yes," she said nervously, looking at him with wide eyes. "Look, I'm really very sorry about breaking into your room, and for waking you up, it's just I really needed my bag and thought I might have left it in here…"

"And you were right, so that's fine then. Besides, you didn't exactly break in. I didn't lock the door."

She laughed a little. Oliver gestured to the couch, and she sat obediently. He winced as the movement jiggled his brain, and put a hand to his head.

"Oh, are you okay? That Bludger looked like it hit you really hard."

"Noticed that, then, huh? I was half hoping nobody was paying attention," he joked, and smiled at her. Something, her heart or her stomach or her diaphragm, something, made flippy movements inside her torso and she ordered it sternly to stop that at once.

"But you're English, aren't you?" he asked, recognising her accent. "What are you doing watching the game over here?"

"I. Um. Followed you," she admitted. "Uh, I mean, your team, I followed the team."

"Pretty big fan, huh?" he asked, and she almost winced. _Oh, you have no idea._

"Yeah, I've been a fan since about my second year," she said, grinning.

He looked at her. "Second year, huh? How long ago was that?"

"Is that a roundabout way of asking my age?" she asked, and laughed.

"I suppose it is," he said, smiling, even as his brain jiggled.

_Please let that be an indication you're interested in me, and please don't stop being interested in me when I tell you how young am, _she prayed. "I'm seventeen," she admitted.

"About to graduate, or just graduated?" he asked.

"Just graduated," she told. _Well, I guess it's not a no._

"Ah, so the dreaded N.E.W.T.s are over."

She laughed. "Yeah, I suppose they are. Now I'm free to laze about and chase Quidditch teams to different countries."

"So you do this a lot, then?" he joked, and she laughed, though in her mind she had to tell the truth. _Yes, actually, I go to every single one of your games_.

"Well," she said, needing to get out of there before her brain overloaded and imploded tragically. "I guess I'd better go. I really just stopped by for my bag…"

"Right," he said, like he'd just remembered. He stood up, and she did the same. He winced.

"Brain made of jelly?"

"Exactly," he said.

"By the way…" she began, out of curiousity, looking around. "Where are the others? Melinda and Rylie and Kenneth and Carpenter and Cornelius and Will?"

He looked amused by her recitation of names, but he was actually thinking '_Ah ha, she said Will's name last, which means she's trying not to make him look important, which means he is important, which means she probably has a crush on him, which is too bad, because she's really very pretty and she's an adult in the Wizarding World at least' _and other complicated deductive thoughts. "Oh, Will hauled the others off to force them to enjoy themselves. They'll be back if you want to drop by later."

"Oh, no, I probably shouldn't," she said. "After all, I'm just another annoying fan."

"Ah, but we don't have so many of those around here, if you'll recall. Go on, come on by. It's our last full day here in Ireland, you might as well."

"Oh," said Natalie, disappointed that they were leaving. "Well, maybe I will then."

Oliver caught the disappointment, and assumed she was thinking of Will. "Well, if you're busy, you could always visit us in England, as we're all going back there. Actually, why don't you visit us in England anyway? Any time you like."

"Really," she exclaimed. "Brilliant!"

He smiled at her, and she grinned back, and he found himself quite drawn to that grin. _Seven years is a pretty big gap_, he told himself. _She'd be better off with Will, he's younger. Best if you just focus on women your age. Right._

Just as he was thinking this, and she was thinking _ohmygodohmygodohmygod he's so pretty when he smiles do you think he likes me he might I don't know what if he thinks I'm too young maybe I'd be better off with somebody else besides you've been stalking him and if he finds that out he will hate you forever oh god I should leave now! _Someone knocked on the door, and their heads whipped in that direction. Oliver crossed to the door and pulled it open.

Amortentia Warbeck was standing there, looking as gorgeous as she had the previous night, if more casual. She smiled warmly at Oliver, then glanced into the room behind him.

"Oh, hello, Miss MacDonald!" she said, taking her as an excuse to brush past Oliver and into the room. "I didn't expect to be seeing you here!" She turned to look at Oliver. "Oh, Mr. Wood, have you seen William? I was hoping we could continue our fascinating conversation from last night."

She was flirting, obviously. She smiled at Oliver prettily and batted her eyelashes, even while asking him where she could find another man. Natalie was jealous. She was envious, for starters, because Amortentia was prettier and richer and more talented than Natalie would ever be, and she was jealous because Amortentia was flirting with someone whom Natalie thought of, rightly or not, as HERS. She seethed.

Oliver saw the jealousy, but assumed, as he was beginning to do a lot, that it was over Will. He wondered if he should lie, tell the terrifyingly gorgeous woman in front of him Will was somewhere he wasn't, but decided she was too scary and he didn't want to be on her bad side. "Ah," he said. "He and the rest of the team went into town to enjoy themselves. They're probably at a pub or something."

"Oh, I see," said Amortentia, looking crestfallen. "I don't suppose he has a cellphone?"

"Er," said Oliver. "He does, actually."

"Oh, good!" said Amortentia, visibly brightening. "Could you, perhaps, provide me with his number?"

"Alright," said Oliver, and she whipped out her phone and dialed the numbers as Oliver told them to her. Then she held the phone to her ear and brushed past Oliver and out the door.

"Oh, William!" they heard her say, as Oliver closed the door. "It's me, Amortentia."

Oliver turned to Natalie, looking slightly rattled. "Who the bloody hell was that?"

Natalie sighed, mistaking his confusion for attraction. "Amortentia Warbeck, only daughter of singing sensation Celestina Warbeck and singer for the Wizarding Wireless Network."

"Oh," he said, still shaken. "Her. She's very pretty."

Natalie scowled. "Yes," she said shortly. "I suppose she is. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some things I have to get done."

And with that, she bustled out of the room, leaving Oliver feeling not only confused, but also something of a cad.

_Oh, shit, _thought Natalie, as she half ran down the stairs, in too much of a hurry to get away from that room to take the elevator. _Oh, shit, oh shit. I just made a complete and utter fool of myself, didn't I? All he said was that she was pretty. She IS pretty. Anyone with half a brain would think she was pretty. And then I just…jumped all over him. Well. Not literally. I suppose it would have been worse if I had literally jumped on him. Worse for him, not for me. I would have enjoyed it. I wouldn't have just jumped on him, either. I'd jump on him so he fell down, then I would straddle him and I would undo his shirt buttons – no, wait, he wasn't wearing a shirt with buttons, I'd have to just tear it off. Then I'd – Oh, god, shut up! Shut up shut up shut up! You just embarrassed yourself and probably made him hate you and now he won't want you to visit them in England or watch any of their games and if he sees you he'll probably leave, or have you kicked out. Can he do that? Can he kick people out of places? I think he must be able to, he's Oliver Wood, after all. Oh, god, what am I doing?_

What Natalie MacDonald was doing at that moment was rushing down many flights of stairs to escape a man she'd been obsessed with since she was eleven and had now just thoroughly embarassed herself in front of. Eventually, however, all that rushing down stairs got tiring, and she decided it was safe to take the elevator. She pushed open the door to the hallway and walked in the direction she thought the elevator was in. When she reached it, she saw someone standing in front of it, and almost turned and left. However, she mentally smcked herself and reminded herself it wasn't anyone she knew. She walked forward to wait, and realized she had been wrong.

"Seamus!" she exclaimed, and he turned to see her.

"Oh, Natalie! What's up? What are you doing here?" he asked, smiling at her.

"Oh, I, ah, left my bag in the room and came back to get it," she said.

"Then why are you on my floor?" he asked, amused.

"I decided to take the stairs," she said, omitting her reasons behind this decision. "And then I got tired."

"Ah. Coincidence, then, huh? Well, take the elevator down with me and then I'll take you out to lunch."

"Oh, no, not this again," she groaned. "You're going to take me out to some fabulously expensive place, wave your money around for everybody to see, and then make suggestive comments at me while our waiter is still standing there, aren't you?"

"Exactly," he said cheerfully. "But the food will be really, really good."

She sighed. "I give up. You know my weakness. Let the suggestive comments begin."

"Fantastic. I'll start as soon as you give me a jumping off point."

"Do I have to facilitate? Can't I just suffer?"

"Oh, alright," he said, as the doors slid open and they stepped inside. There was an elderly couple in there with them, looking rich and stuck-up. Seamus flashed a quick grin at them, and Natalie barely resisted the urge to groan. Seamus loved nothing more than messing with people.

"Hi there," he said to her, and she looked at him, wondering what his game was.

"Hi," she said back, tentatively.

"My name's Seamus," he told her, then cast a glance at the thing that showed which floor they were on. They were approaching the elderly couple's stop quickly. "So," he said, hurrying it up. "Those pants look really good on you."

She blinked at him, wondering if he was really doing what she thought he was doing. "Thanks," she said.

"They'd look even better on the floor," he told her, just as the doors clanged open and the older couple hurried off the elevator. He shot them a glance, just to make sure the old woman was looking at him in shock, then he kissed Natalie firmly on the lips. The doors slid shut in the old woman's horrified face, and Seamus released Natalie and collapsed to the floor laughing.

"Did you see the look on her face?" he said, still cracking up. "I swear, that expression!"

She glared at him. "I feel violated."

He looked at her almost sheepishly. "Sorry, love. I couldn't resist. I thought you played along well."

"You know she's going to report you."

"She doesn't have my last name. Come on, we're almost at the ground floor. Stop looking so frowning and let me take you to lunch."

"It's almost four."

"Well, late lunch, then. I'm hungry. Aren't you hungry?"

As soon as Natalie had admitted that she was, in fact, hungry, Seamus grinned, took her hand, and dragged her forcibly out the door. "Come on," he called. "I know the perfect place in town. The food's delicious, the prices are outrageous, and the waiters get suitably horrified when I'm blatantly sexual!"

"You have an unusual definition of 'perfect'," she muttered, and she allowed herself to be dragged through the parking lot to Seamus' car.


End file.
